I Could Never Hurt Him Enough To

So Now We All Know," Says Four, Quietly, "that You Are Afraid Of A Short, Skinny Girl From Abnegation." His Mouth Curls Into A Smile.

You Are Far Less Likely To Soil Your Pants And Cry For Your Mother If You’re Prepared To Defend Yourself.

It's Wrong," He Says. "it Doesn't Matter If Your Parents Are In A Better Place, They Aren't Here With You, And That's Wrong, Tris. It Shouldn't Have Happened. It Shouldn't Have Happened To You. And Anyone Who Tells You It's Okay Is A Liar.

Instead I Just Let The Silence Stretch Out Between Us. It's The Only Adequate Response To What He Just Told Me, The Only That Does The Tragedy Any Justice Instead Of Patching It Hastily And Moving On.

Then Drew Shuffles Into The Dining Hall. I Drop My Toast, And My Mouth Drifts Open. Calling Him “bruised” Would Be An Understatement. His Face Is Swollen And Purple. He Has A Split Lip And A Cut Running Through His Eyebrow. He Keeps His Eyes Down On The Way To His Table, Not Even Lifting Them To Look At Me. I Glance Across The Room At Four. He Wears The Satisfied Smile I Wish I Had On.